Morning Story

A short story... my first submission.

I stir and stretch, opening my eyes to the morning sunlight reflecting off of the white plaster ceiling. My eyes catch the wispy, lazy dance of a cobweb being gently coerced by the air escaping from the vent. I’ve considered knocking it down, fearing that some one should see it and think that my humble abode is kept a mess. But who do I have in my apartment that would care? Besides, its dance faithfully greets me when I wake.

It’s late. I slept in. I reach for my phone to check for a text message, before I realized my mistake. That’s right. She’s not awake, I know she’s not. So instead, I turn to the other side of my bed, and put my arm around her. I breathe in the smell of her skin, and slowly close my eyes to fall back to sleep for just a little while longer. Why get up? Everything I need is right here, in my bed. In our bed.

I’m still not used to waking up next to her, but I’m enjoying every second of this part of our adjustment period. Still in a haze, teetering on slumber, I slide my leg up to the back of her thighs, gently resting my knee in the cradle that the bend of her legs create.

She hums softly, not quite awake. I kiss her bare shoulder, and she lifts her leg ever so slightly so that I can rest mine between her thighs.

Yes, everything I need is right here. Right here, in my mind. And then, in an instant, it vanishes. The phone rings. I straighten myself in my chair, in my cubicle, at my workplace.

I’d give everything I have, to get everything I need back here with me. One day, I’ll feel it in more than just my mind.

Reviews

[Gastroc.]

and to think- it did happen.

[Gastroc.]

read this prior to post. bravo!

[Samuel Dickens]

"I kiss her bare shoulder, and he lifts her leg..." I think you meant to say "she."
Quite a nice little daydream, I'd say. Your writing is very good, and you could use this as a nice beginning to a story if you wished. Sam

[Mick Parsons]

Cubicle fantasy... something that I think most people have had, trying to forget where we are and why we found ourselves there. If anything, it might be good to slow it down... but the brevity works, in way, because these dreams are never long enough.